Disappear into Nothingness
by radcgg
Summary: Lauren Deathfic


Title: Disappear into Nothingness  
  
Author: Becca  
  
Rating: R  
  
Spoilers: General Season Three  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine.  
  
Author's Note: Thanks to Luna for the idea, Rez for the beta and Ky for the encouragement. Feedback is appreciated.  
  
She opens her eyes but the world won't come into focus. Tears prickle and she can't stop them from falling. She blinks rapidly; her senses are finally returning. She can feel the bruises start to form as her arms pull at the handcuffs holding her to the chair.  
  
Her first coherent thought is: how will she get out of this?  
  
She doesn't think for long; she doesn't have the luxury of time. She pulls harder at the small metal cuffs, trying to break the chair or dislocate her thumb - either would suffice. She needs to get away, to get out.  
  
She doesn't understand what they want with her.  
  
She struggles for minutes that feel like hours without making progress.  
  
The door opens and a stout, dark-haired man walks through. He holds a metal instrument in his hands. She doesn't know what it is but she knows that she doesn't like it. He has small rough hands that grip the silver rod as if his life depends on it. His knuckles are white, and she wonders why. He comes towards her; each click of his patent leather shoes rings in her ears like a hammer being brought down on her head. She tries to cover her ears to block out the noise but remembers too late that her hands are bound. He comes closer. She is helpless.  
  
"Now, Ms. Reed." She trembles as he says her name. She doesn't want him to talk to her. She's trapped but she tries to escape anyway. "Where is Sydney Bristow?"  
  
Why is this happening to her?  
  
Sydney Bristow. She has no idea where Sydney Bristow is. She doesn't give a flying fuck where Sydney Bristow is. If it hadn't been for Saint fucking Bristow she wouldn't be here in the first place.  
  
"I'll ask you again. Where is Sydney Bristow?" She doesn't want to respond but she has no choice. There is something that she's not seeing, something that works against her.  
  
He stares at her. She stares right back, before she spits on him in disgust.  
  
She doesn't see the blow coming. He hits her across the side of the head. Bright fireworks go off in front of her eyes before she feels the pain surge through her, from the point of impact down to her toenails. Her body aches more than it should. In places where it shouldn't hurt. What happened to her when she was unconscious? Her head rolls forward as blood seeps slowly from her left temple, down her shirt, to the floor. She can feel it tickle as it runs down the side of her face leaving a sticky trail in its wake.  
  
The fireworks have left dark patches in her vision now but she can still see the damn shoe off to the side. Why is he doing this to her? Doesn't he know that she doesn't know anything? And even if she did, she's been trained not to break. She'll die first.  
  
The man grabs her face. He pulls her head up violently, stretching her neck until it feels like it will break.  
  
"Where is Sydney Bristow?" Why does that voice give her chills? Where has she heard it before? Because she's certain that she's heard it.  
  
She tries to pull out of his grip, but he slaps her hard across the cheek, grabs her again and shakes her until she feels sick. Just as she's about to throw up right on those Goddamned shoes, he stops.  
  
Her head stops spinning a few seconds later but the sick feeling doesn't go away, it just moves to the background as her temple starts to burn.  
  
She wants to scream, but her voice won't work. She opens her mouth but only air passes through her lips. She breathes in harshly, trying to find some way to get her body to stop rebelling against her. Trying to prepare herself so that she can escape.  
  
She feels the quick sting in her arm but doesn't know what it is. Seconds later she's flying.  
  
There's no pain anymore, only bright lights and figures that move but stay still at the same time. Her eyelids close slowly and then open again, and close. She has no control and that's just fine. Everything is beautiful here. All of her thoughts just disappear into nothingness. She feels golden, like she has wings and balloons tied to her pulling her up and up and up.  
  
She crashes, and suddenly the pain comes back threefold. She has to scream but she can't, so the tears trail down her cheeks, mixing with the clotting blood and running off to the ground where it hits with a sickening thud. And she craves. She needs whatever they gave her. She won't survive without it.  
  
She pulls her hands against the handcuffs harder this time and moans for the first time since she's woken up. Give me more, she says without being verbal at all. She stretches towards the purple liquid encased in the syringe. It is miles away from her, but she can't stop reaching for it.  
  
"Where is Sydney Bristow?" She hears the voice again, but it seems far away this time. She sees him standing in front of her, but he sounds like he's on the other side of the world whispering back at her.  
  
"I don't know," she says, but it doesn't sound like her voice. Her lips are moving, so she must be talking, but the voice is all wrong. She doesn't know where Sydney is, so why is she talking? Why is her mouth moving? How can she get more of that stuff that they gave her?  
  
He hits her on the other side of the head with the silver rod. Again she sees the fireworks, but she stops to admire them this time. She feels the pain rip through her again, like electricity, it cuts through her without resistance. She convulses in the chair for no apparent reason and coughs violently until the air re-enters her lungs.  
  
"You liked that didn't you?" He motions to the syringe on the table. She feels herself nod at the scratchy low voice. It doesn't bother her as much as it did before. She doesn't want to get away from him so much anymore. "Well, if you're a very good girl, I'll give you more." She nods again. "Just tell me where Sydney Bristow is and you'll get all that you want."  
  
The scratchy voice makes it sound so easy. He's going to take away all the pain. All she has to do is say a name. Her voice comes out weak and trembling, "Vancouver." The tears increase again. "She's in Vancouver."  
  
"Very good, Ms. Reed."  
  
She waits for what feels like hours before she feels the beautiful sting again.  
  
Oh, it's heaven. She's never felt anything so wonderful in her life. Her whole body is fluid. Her skin is the only thing keeping her together. The sounds she hears are muffled; they don't matter. Her head lolls to the side and she looks up at the dark-haired man. She wants to thank him, but something in his face tells her that she shouldn't. Something in his face tells her that this is the last thing she's ever going to see.  
  
But she doesn't care as she slips into the abyss. 


End file.
